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Waiting for a coach
that never came,
a ball gown
out of sackloth;
are not dependable
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.
Do not let anyone
clip your wings;
you were made for the skies.
Red DressDon’t put on your red dress
for he doesn’t know the meaning
he doesn’t want the commitment
he doesn’t care for the color.
The red dress you love to wear
that’s stained from wine and beer
but still carries so much meaning
for who could find a second red dress
Don’t go out on your red dress
for the man who wants nothing more
to screw around and doesn’t understand
the meaning behind a simple red dress.
A red dress for when you dance.
A red dress for when you cry.
A red dress for when you need it.
A red dress for when you care too much.
Don’t put on your red dress for him darling
Definition of a Writerwrit•er
A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery
They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish
A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own
They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone
i got flowers oncei am lonely.
i received flowers once
and i placed them
in a vase til
the petals all browned
and turned to dust
on the glass of my bureau.
i have never gotten flowers since.
i spend my days
with a boy
whom i love far beyond reason
and he holds me in his arms
and holds me together.
i bite my nails
and pull my hair
over the moment when he
feels the disenchantment
fall over his body,
all clean lines
and smooth shapes,
and realises that leaving
the worst thing
the best thing.
i am lonely
and even with a hand to hold,
and even with a cloak of security
bunching around my shoulders
and hiding my thighs,
moonshines in georgiaman on the moon:
giddy with lumps of north georgia seas
greased on the crease of my lips
gravity drips from couch-cavities
when tides belch from below --
burst on the water's edge,
earth's bourbon sailors retch in moonshined ripples
trickled blue murder on their crinkled crimes;
raking water wrinkles like a wayward drunk
stuck on sunken bootleggin' dreams.
it's been a long, long time
since I've drowned your hemisphere
for fishing like a moonraker,
swishing my bait-lines like tobacco's
squished in your shallow gums
before you dare to down my air
breathing in this sincere georgia night.
insomnia to keep you closefalling asleep with the windows
open, with morning curling
around you like a drop of blue
ink in a glass of water,
turquoise and unwritten;
remembering when early dawn
was a secret you kept
in a soft, aortic pocket—
your dead lighter spinning
to the floor of Lake Ontario,
a halo of its bygone, synergetic flame.
Blame The ParentsI won't be able to keep a relationship in the future because I'm scared
I'm scared it'll turn out like theirs
I'm a pacifist because I hate watching it
I hate watching them fight
I have PTSD because of their fights
Their fights almost broke up this family
I self harm because they are pushing me over the edge
I was already close to jumping, but they gave me an extra push
I'm always in my room because that's how I run away
I guess that's called "Like father, like daughter"
I only eat one meal a day because he constantly puts me down
Even though he's joking, I can tell he means every bit of what he says
I can't trust anyone because they do
Asperger's SyndromeAsperger’s Syndrome
This is what makes me different.
It is what makes me both distant and compassionate.
It is what makes me both tired and creative.
It is what makes me both sassy and awkward.
It is what makes me both fairly normal and completely insane at the same time.
This is what makes me amazing.
It is what gives me my talents and achievements.
It is what gives me my intelligence and ideas.
It is what gives me my humor and individuality.
It is what gives me my passion and dedication.
This is what makes me flawed.
It is what makes me confused and anxious.
It is what makes me exhausted and frustrated.
It is what makes me uncertai
field notesi read some poetry
just for the sound--for the words lilting up and down
and the thick, honeysepia
polaroids unmisting in my head.
those are the poems i never understand
and the only conclusion i can draw is:
there is apparently
some supernova poetic awakening that comes
with the loss of virginity
and basically i need to get laid.
MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sun
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings
Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee
Missing piecesMissing pieces
There are wounds
that never heal; silences
so loud they thunder - I stopped
breathing years ago, that night
the ice took my chest. Since then
I walk in pieces, howling
around my heart.
-SophieCT, 2012, 2013
blood-red wine and skeleton jazz i.
the day you left,
your cobweb dress clung to you in ways
that i would dream about for years,
in hot, fevered nights
when the moon thought it might burst
in the sky,
and even the wind wailed your name.
i remember how you called make-up war paint,
and you drew it across your face like a message
i could never decipher;
i remember how i got goosebumps when i heard
your heels clicking across the floor at 3am
when you finally got home and slipped into bed;
i remember longing for you with every fiber of my being,
feeling separate from you even when our clothes lay on the floor
and your fingernails dug into my shoulders
and your toes curled
L.E.S.B.I.A.N.Living on the
Edge of life
I truly am
As it is all i can be
Never forget that
Anatomic and foreign inside of youAt times, I thought that roadmap
in your chest was the reason why I gathered
dust at night.
But one day,
on the coldest afternoon,
I dwelled in your body
through your eyelids
and travelled through these streets
long enough to know that your unexplained hunger
wasn't going to cease-
I was barefoot in the days
where the sun scorched its rage
on every drop of sweat hiding in my nape
that they gave up and ran away,
like little gypsies looking for an oasis
to build their tents in,
standing on bare sand dunes-
relieved that the prejudice of their pagan artistry
was replaced with acres
and acres of dry, barren landscape.
This was how I striv
Wasnt ExpectingAs the world falls down around you
The earth gives without a clue
You go to that happy place
To where you see a familiar face
But you see the face is not there
You face only your worst fear
You want to run away and scream
To run, to find the exit to this dream
But you stand there face to face with it
You raise a fist and strike, only to feel the hit
The hit does nothing except hurt your face
Then without a thought the fear you embrace
You scream, yell, and beat on the fear
Only to horse your voice, you weep a tear
The tear turns into a sob on its shoulder
You compose yourself and look at the face of your holder
It the last but
N-AI walk in the office with out a care
The doctor walks in with something to share
I look out the window, I dont cry, not a tear
He says the medication he is stopping
My heart goes into my chest dropping
He says they havent been working at all
the results of the tests were a miscall
My world goes black with the fear
I awake to find it wasnt a dream
I sit there in silences, wanting to scream
All things are fate or is it chance?
To die young in a hurry or die old as if it was a dance?
I write so I can kill the pain, if only for today
To make my self or try to at times okay
To maybe leave something that they will re
Locked doorLaying with no one in bed
Going over the words you didnt said
Just before you left me here
Leaving me in my fear
The fear of you not returning
It only helps the hurting
The hurt of the words I cant undo
I said the thing that kills you
The single proverbial poison
The words that hurts you again
My invincible hero, my protector
You looked at me with your heart atore
You said nothing just walked away
I do things alone, mostly pray
I never meant to say them
I dont know why I said them then
I know I shouldnt have
I should of throw that vase I grabbed
I cry not for me but you
I hurt the one that is only true
three star godwe hear the shot out of nowhere,
my heart stops wishinng not to be here,
we run for cover and hide,
i look to see my comrade dead at my side
I hear the bullets flying next to my head
Its nothing like it, the sound of hot lead
I look around to see everyone falling
The platoon sergent a medic he is calling
Then within a second his face is bleeding
From here i can see his life is fleeting
War is playing god with pawns
Pawns who may never seen another dawn
Numbing dripsWaiting for the numbness to come, to wake
To keep this smiling upon even if its fake
To numb me from the knives driven into my back
From every ones onslaught attack
I was waiting to slip into the nothingness
Returning once again into unknowningness
My heat slowly stops beating
As the light in your eyes is fleating
So i sit here on the bathroom floor
The rythemic thumping of my head upon the door
So i wait for the day to live or die
Would you grow a soul and began to cry?
Muse suffocatingShe sits alone, head spinning so fast
Smashing the future with the past
She wants to stop pain that hurts so much
Original paper drawings not making a good crunch
In her head she has things banging around
She cant focus with so much sound
She feels to stop her masterwork of art
Stress takes a harsh toll on such a young heart
Her vision is warped where she cant see
How wonderful her unique art can be
She cant see that a lot of her art inspire
In her burns a raging artist fire
For she is blinded by the darkness of life
I only hope she fights through her strife
So dont give up, this for you isnt the end
I know you have
PoemI lay awake in bed, hearing your screaming
I cant focus, this is real or am I dreaming
I lay there in the dark thing of something
Without thought or feeling I fall to nothing
Your motivates are now unclear
Heart removed and taken there
It makes no more sense to see on
Laying nothing, to reap nothing in the sun
Finally going and seeing it, yes away
Down and out come this friday
Keep in Touch!
`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More